In 2005, 89 year-old Carmen Herrera had her breakthrough exhibit that led to art world stardom. Although recognition came late in life, she had been working at her art constantly since her 20s.

The 100 Years Show, released in the year of her 100th birthday in 2015 shows the still vibrant and productive artist - with a zest for life and no intention of stopping. In 2020, she celebrated her 105th birthday - her remarkable and remarkably long life continues.

The documentary shows her at work, going through her process of idea to sketch to proof of concept to full blown artwork. While still hands on, her assistant is there to help her complete her works, many of which are large scale.

Her abstract minimalist paintings have the power to make the viewer stop to contemplate their elegant simplicity. Her early works already demonstrate her talent. The further decades of work have strengthened her skills as she continues her daily search to create powerful art.

Her positive attitude to art and life are remarkable given the almost complete absence of opportunities and recognition for so many decades. She kept going. As she says, when you wait for the bus, the bus will eventually come. Certainly, there has been a lot pain in her waiting, including being told by a woman gallery owner in the 1950s that she would not show her work because Carmen was a woman. She has not forgotten, but she persisted.

This half hour documentary effectively shows Carmen Herrera at work in her home studio, her process and explanations of her life and art. Unfortunately, because of its shortness, it does not delve into the source of her inspiration and how she came to focus on line and colour. It may be a factor of her not being able to explain it well, rather hard to imagine given her ease explaining so much of her life to the camera. Certainly, enough is known of her early life and initial architectural studies to be able to map out where her artistic interests began and how they evolved.

There are few unequivocal feel good stories in life. This is definitely one. The doggedness of an artist continuing to produce while being ignored, and then attaining recognition in her ninth decade of life is a story hard to even imagine as being within the realm of realistic possibility. 

As a final exclamation point, she has gone through life with a smile and without bitterness. She deserves all the belated fame she has received.

Maya Lin leapt into the public eye as a 21 year-old architecture student who won the competition to design the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington in 1980. Maya Lin: A Clear Strong Vision follows the first ten years of her career beginning with this incredible project win over 1,000+ other submissions.

Her design is a feat that changed war memorials from glorification of state power and politicians to a solemn, personalized recognition of those who died. While I have never been to the Memorial, I have distinct images of people moved to tears just by going there, and in many cases, simply seeing and touching the name of a loved one or comrade with whom they served. 

She shifted the paradigm for war memorials by doing two things. First, she included the names of all those who died, which was a requirement of the competition, but she found a way to make every single name legible. Second, she changed the direction from vertical to horizontal,  a brilliant way to incorporate the required 50,000+ names. 

In my mind, I compare this memorial with the four war memorials within walking distance of where I live. They are all vertically-oriented, meant to inspire awe rather than personal connection. One of them actually includes the names of people who fought, but that wall is behind a fence, which means the public is not welcome to approach and touch. 

This paradigm shift is even more remarkable considering that the Vietnam War had ended in defeat and shame for the Americans a few short years before the competition and building of the memorial. Emotions ran incredibly high following the announcement of her winning design. Criticism went well beyond the design itself and became personal, including attacks on her gender and ethnic background. Her parents are Chinese immigrants. In the face of the controversy, she held her ground. She was pressured to compromise her design but she remained  steadfast. And she was right. This is confirmed towards the end of the movie, when she attended a Memorial Day service at the monument ten years after its inauguration. The veterans gave her a standing ovation following her remarks.

Following her meteoric entrance at the intersection of architecture, design and art, her career has never slowed. One of her next projects highlighted was a memorial to civil rights in Montgomery, Alabama - the birthplace of the Klu Klux Klan. As with the Vietnam Memorial, she created a design that invites the viewers to touch and approach, this time it is like a round table with key dates and names with water flowing over it. At its opening, everyone crowded by the edge and touched the writing, and I know I would want to do the same thing. Her public architecture is participatory, you are meant to approach and touch. That is an essential part of the process for the full emotional impact to be experienced.

Following that memorial, she designed a house, a museum, an outdoor reflection area in a park and a monument to women at Yale. I especially liked her work during a museum residency creating an installation of tons of crushed glass that ventures into visual art. 

The title really sums up the person - she has a strong, clear vision. To this day, her work remains fresh, simple, elegant and original. She has definite themes and interests without a sense of repetition. Extensive interviews where she explains her creative process round out the real time execution of some of her projects in the documentary that brings her process alive.

If she had only designed the Vietnam Memorial, that would have already been enough to be considered a great artist. Her continued production for now more than 40 years attests to a vibrant creative force that continues to burn strong. 

If there is one artist in the world who is identified with a medium, it’s Cai Guo-Qiang and gunpowder. Over the years, he has used it to draw (on canvas as well as in the sky), for performance as well as conceptual art. He’s even used it for pretty standard - if grandiose - fireworks shows.

Sky Ladder uses the story of him accomplishing a lifelong dream to create a sky ladder - inspired by a Christian tradition of a stairway to heaven (also a 1970s rock anthem). With that story working largely as the bookends, the movie explores his early life prior to and during the Cultural Revolution in China. His father had made their home a centre for artistic discussion as well as himself being a successful painter. Relatively early in his career, Cai moved to Japan and then further afield, especially now that he has become an international art star. 

The movie touches on themes such as the influence of traditional Chinese art on his work, his connection with his father and grandmother - both of whom were still alive if very frail at the time of filming, the ethics of working on projects sponsored by the Chinese government such as fireworks at the Beijing Olympics and 2014 APEC conference. Another interesting theme is how to keep your art fresh when the struggle to make it is over - he now has access to significant resources to carry out projects but seeks out obscure artists integrate to integrate their ideas and energy. Visiting one such obscure artist, he comments that ‘compulsive and sincere emotion that should exist in all art’ - in some way that sums up his quest, in some ways harder now that he can easily access financial investment in his artwork.

The highpoint of the movie is definitely the creation of his Sky Ladder at a Chinese fishing village near his family’s ancestral home. It is a thing of wonder and beauty to behold before for the few minutes of its life, stretching 500 metres into the sky just before dawn breaks. The long and quixotic journey to carry out his dream came true. He dedicated the work to his grandmother who would die a month later. Making the project even more challenging was the fact that he hid it from government authorities. The third attempt - England, the United States and then China - finally succeeded.

While the sky ladder theme holds the film together, the abundance of other themes left me wanting for more than soundbites. Although the arc of his career was drawn, I really wanted to hear him speak about his work more in-depth and explain what he has been trying to say through his gunpowder and other works. While there are many times he talks about his life, I really didn’t hear enough about his very original art.

Shepard Fairey rose to public fame and consciousness with his Obama ‘Hope’ poster leading up to the 2008 American presidential election. Obey Giant tells the story of Fairey’s road to fame and celebrity with the Obama poster being the tipping point.

A non-academically inclined high school student, he finally came into his own by studying art. Even at art school, subversion of political posters started in a big way by him posting the face of Andre the Giant over a mayoral candidate’s face on a billboard as part of a class assignment. 

Andre the Giant was certainly his main obsession and vehicle for many years, eventually he incorporated the words ‘Obey Giant’ into the imagery to become his artistic trademark. Behind this obsession was the anti-mainstream questioning of ownership of the public space - by government and corporations through advertising - or by other voices. Street art was not just a vandalism game for him. 

And so he went about his underground activities of posting decals based on Andre the Giant and postering. He came out from the street art underground with the Obama poster. Creating that poster was a conscious decision to take part in partisan politics rather than just railing against the 'system' and it redirected his career. He felt he could no longer stand on the sidelines and criticize. He needed to stand up for what he believed in. The poster was not commissioned, the Obama campaign never brought him on board and he let anyone use it - foregoing any financial benefit.

This career changing decision led him in directions that the documentary follows, and it continues to play out until the present. The portrait became iconic and hangs in the National Portrait Gallery in Washington. The documentary follows the upward and downward directions his career took. As a result of of his Obama portrait, he had his first major gallery show in Boston, where on opening night he was arrested because of some of the graffiti works he had been doing in the city while there. He was accused of damaging public property. A spirit-crushing legal journey lasted many months. Then the more complicated case came up with Associated Press suing him for using one of their pictures as the source for his Obama portrait, which had the potential to bankrupt him even though he never benefited financially. Again, months of legal hell ensued before AP finally dropping the case.

At this point of his career, his exploration of ownership of the public space evolved. He was now famous and generating significant revenue through his work. he was commissioned to paint murals. He became involved in partisan politics and progressive positions, especially in the Trump era. His aesthetic has evolved, with posters and murals that have taken his Obama look into something much more based on a design look, which was already an element of his work, but is now more present as part of the more polished look of his work.

Following the completion of this documentary, he has definitely chosen to move away from his counter-cultural vibe - he recently opened up an Obey Giant clothing store on the Champs Elysées in Paris. His work has become more beautiful than edgy.

Obey Giant’s strength is its exploration of the street art scene and its existential questioning of ownership of the public space. Given the superstar reality of Fairey today, it also covers his development and initial inspirations, which have continued into his current work. At a visceral level. the documentary delivers an understanding of the risks street artists take. Fairey describes his arrests, which have involved police violence but also included the refusal to give him access to his medication for type 1 diabetes - his health and even his life were at risk because of the arrests. So being a street artist had real and significant consequences for him, even leaving aside the court cases brought against him.

It is interesting to contrast Fairey’s career with Banksy’s, probably the world’s two best known street artists. Banksy has continued to stay outside and flaunt the artistic and political system - even while those systems try to take possession of his work. He has consistently kept his critiques at a meta level, certainly with regards to politics. Fairey chose to become involved in partisan politics and issues about which he is passionate. Both valid choices. But I feel that over the years, Fairey’s art has weakened. Audience taste now matters to him.

The Mystery of Picasso lets the art do the talking. I had my doubts about it given it was filmed in 1956, but it’s actually the clearest view into the creative process of an artist I have seen to date, almost entirely without words. Unfortunately, the music, like the title, feels poorly chosen and detracts from the viewing experience.

The first part is a series of quick marker and ink drawings. The filmmaker developed a technique showing the drawing developing in real time. Picasso sat and drew on one side of a special cloth and the camera was on the other side, registering every mark he made. The drawings become repetitive but certainly offer a quick first glimpse into his artistic process. The best ones are the most abstract, black lines and circles filling the page, coming alive to acquire depth and vibrancy.

The breathtaking section followed the development of three paintings, with images taken every few minutes. The first is the head of a goat. Starting from a simple, loose line drawing, he worked until it took on an expressive life of its own. What’s most interesting is to see how much he reworked the painting - every single part of it going from light to dark and sometimes back to light, detail to non-detailed, colours changing throughout as well. He was experimenting throughout. The final product is a stunner and in this case, he actually says off camera that it took five hours. It was a jaw-dropper to understand just how much he worked every square inch of the canvas. I assumed that the most famous painter of the twentieth century would know what he wanted when he started a painting and simply carried it out. Given his work appears so loose and quick, I did not think he needed so much trial and error - obviously a false assumption.

The shock only grew with the next painting, a nude woman reading. In this case, the process is even more dramatic, at a certain point he scrapes away all his work and starts over again. In this case, the face was where almost all the effort was concentrated. Seeing the changes and the various moods expressed by each iteration was amazing. At the same time, other parts retained the looseness of the initial sketch. At the final stage, he integrated collaged papers into the painting.

The final painting is an inspiration for all struggling artists. It’s a collection of vignettes of beach scenes - waterskiing, houses, people standing. In this case he worked every single section over and over and over again. One of the central figures is a woman, who never stops changing size and gesture. In this case, even the genius overworked his piece, eventually saying off camera that it’s really going badly and he wants to start over. He does and the final finished painting is much more in line with his later work - people who look similar to Henry Moore sculptures. He should have stopped halfway through the initial version as it was amazing, but he didn’t. He was searching for more and risked failure to achieve it. So the takeaway for me is that risk and failure are part of the artistic process as well.

My conclusion is that Picasso’s process was to go down a path and express his visual idea according to his style - but he didn’t stop there. He went further, pushing his style to greater individual expression through trial, error and experimentation.

The sad note of the film is that all the work he created during the filming was destroyed - the only record of it is in the film. Too bad, I would have happily taken those pieces for myself given the chance.

Pina, 2011, is a unique artist biography in that the artist is absent - she died suddenly, a week before shooting was scheduled to begin. In the hands of supremely talented director, Wim Wenders, this death and grief of her dance company members becomes a reference point in some unexpected ways.

Pina Bausch was a modern dance leader. An early quote refers to dance as a language that has to be learned. This applies for her dancers but also for audiences. As an audience member with no interest in dance, this movie was a challenge for me. It remains a language I don’t speak, although I have learned a few words by watching this movie. 

To handle the absence of the central character, Wenders surprisingly uses little existing film footage of Pina, but rather many portrait shots of the dancers looking at the camera with a voice over of their stories and comments about Pina. Very effective emotionally, but when talking about her and her dance philosophy - I’m still unable to speak the language or even learn much about it.

On a more positive front, the movie shows significant excerpts of performances. The ones I enjoyed the most are actually the vignettes of dancers in non-studio or non-theatre settings, including sidewalks, forests, even beside a swimming pool. My favourite is a man on the street dancing while a small dog yaps at his feet the whole time. That integration of dance into modern life and settings did feel appropriate.

The themes of the her longer pieces revolve around the tension between the sexes and a blinding yearning, usually for some sort of connection with others. Apparently that was one of her constant questions to her dancers: "What are you longing for", to which they needed to respond through dance. 

Where she stands out in the world of modern dance is in bringing a strong theatrical element into her performances. Where this outweighs the overbearing conceptual aspects of some of her work, such as Cafe Mueller, I can see myself sitting through a performance. For those highly conceptual pieces, it would be really difficult for me to stay connected for any extended period.

The only performance I really enjoyed was Full Moon. All the themes of her work are there, but this one is filled with joy rather than angst. The physical, high energy approach of her dancers combines well with the subject matter.

By watching Pina I learned more about modern dance, something of very little interest to me. But the unique situation Wenders found himself in and his solution to the sudden absence of the film's main subject do create a memorable film, filled with raw sorrow. But precisely that closeness to her death created an overly eulogistic final product.